Just in case
by SpeculumOtpac
Summary: I know that we can’t be together. Not right now. I’m still too hurt from the first blow. I couldn’t handle any more heartbreak. Maybe in a year or two we can make it work, but I can’t live on that hope. I have to move on. [LESB oneshot]


I miss you.

I miss the way you smelled. I could never put my finger on exactly what scent it is, but it was musky and masculine, yet not too foreign or strong.

I miss the way you looked at me. Your grey eyes that were always hard to read, yet let me know exactly what I needed to know. Your eyes gave me this feeling, that I was safe, and that's everything was all right at the moment, and that there was no reason to be upset. I couldn't help but smile around you, knowing that you were mine, and that you loved me, and that wasn't going to change.

But it did.

I miss the way you used to touch me, gently, as if I were fragile and beautiful. One touch sent chills up my spine, and a jitter in my stomach. Hell, I had butterflies just from you standing there, but the touch was reassuring, concreting that feeling in my mind, my body, and my soul.

I miss the way you used to kiss me, softly, and carefully. I miss your tongue and mine, dancing to the song in our souls, a sweet melody, the notes carving the message into that concrete feeling, better than any initials carved into a tree. This was a sculpture, one that cannot be imagined. The sculpture was that of two hands, hearts, and people entwined, made into one. Connected on a level that most couldn't understand, let alone envision.

I miss how you used to act, careful not to bring up the topics that were touchy between us. We are two completely different people, one a goody-two-shoes, completely committed to getting high marks, and not often one to break rules, the other a rule-breaker, believing that you could live life doing the least you can to get by. We still managed to make good conversation most of the time, each taking turns feigning interest in the other's topic of choice; one not necessarily interesting to ourselves

I remember the day you asked me out. We were in my favorite store, and I was rambling on about two different styles of music and you blurted the words out. I was lost for words, thinking that it was a dream, just another one of my dreams, and that you couldn't possibly offer me such a privilege, not in a thousand years. We were too different, and I had denied to my feelings to his face, rejecting his offers to dance at events, and hiding behind the mask of hatred so that I could shove my feelings aside and move on with life. I was only beginning to accept them. I asked you to repeat the question and silence hung in the air , and I repeated my request again. I wanted reassurance, and after a slight pause, reassurance is what you gave, and this time you said it with more confidence, daring to look me in the eye, as if you could will me to answer. I felt dizzy; as if I were about to fall over and shakily I nodded my head, not able to form the word _yes_. You saved me by changing the subject, and soon we were talking again.

I remember the day you told me you loved me. We were at the movie theatre. You had insisted we go somewhere, so the movies were what we decided upon. Your idea of going to a movie was obviously different from mine, because during the previews, we ended up kissing, your tongue exploring the interior of my mouth, and my body moving to be closer to yours. I broke away once the movie started, but you kept your arm around me, and your face in the corner of my line of vision. I couldn't help but find myself glancing at you and catching your eyes and couldn't resist kissing you again. The feeling of your lips on mine was intoxicating, and addicting. You had become my drug of choice. The high died down a bit and I found some sense, so I pulled back lowering myself back into my seat. This only encouraged you to pull yourself closer. As my other attempt was in vain, I pulled away abruptly, whispering that we should probably watch the movie. I leant in and placed a kiss upon your lips, and got lost in it. Realizing what I had instigated, I pulled away and offered you some popcorn, "we did buy a large". To prevent myself from looking at you, I focused all my energy on concentrating on the movie; the plot, the characters, and anything else that would stop myself from indulging in any acts I knew were inappropriate. This only resulted in my eyes watering from lack of blinking. I wiped the excess fluid from my tear ducts, closing my eyes firmly to get it out. In doing so I looked over in your direction and finding myself again kissing you. I broke away again, and sat back in my seat, when I hear you call my name, "Lily" It rolled off of your tongue like lemonade pouring from a pitcher on a hot summer's day, so cool, so inviting, and sweet. I turned my head to glance at you and see your face, sincere and altogether attractive. You whispered those three words, and kissed me and I knew they were truth.

From what I know and observed, the words were truth, but at some point they became a lie. I don't even remember how many times you said them, and I know wonder how many times they were a lie, and how long you had been contemplating and plotting my heartbreak and the downfall of our once wonderful relationship.

I remember when you broke up with me. It was a day over sixth months. You said that we don't spend enough time together, and you don't feel the same anymore. I was heartbroken. I remember going up to my room and crying, and then there being too many memories of you there. I went outside and cried some more, but you were everywhere. I needed to find somewhere I could sit and get it all out, and then I would be fine. I found a place, a bridge, actually it was, under a bridge, immersed halfway in water, but I found the place, and I sat and cried and thought. I thought about who I was, who I wanted to be, and who I used to be. I realized then that I could be better off without you, and better yet, I could show you what you were missing. If I only acted, dressed, and was myself, my true self, I could make you want me back. I could spend the summer finding and becoming the best me possible, and come the beginning of school, you would realize how wrong your decision to end things with me was. I could taunt you, dangling any new boyfriends I gained in front of you, and teasing you, giving you a little of what you would never have all of again. Making you regret it, but I wouldn't regret it. I still don't regret anything I've done with you. After resolving to make you want me again, and deny you, I decided I'd be fine, and started to walk back to the castle. For the next few days I convinced myself that I didn't need you. I thought of all the things you did that could make you seem like a jerk in my mind, to make it easier. Now, though, after I encounter so many reminders of you daily, I realize that I still want you. I have dreams about you.

I wonder what would happen if we stayed together. Would we go farther than before? Would we be closer?

What would happen if I tried harder? If I had asked you if you wanted to spend time with me, would you as well make the effort and take the time to be with me, if only for a minute.

What would happen if we got back together? Would we last? Would you make more of an effort? Would I? I wish now that I had spent more time with you, that I had gotten closer to you, and paid more attention so that I would've seen this coming. I wish that that song, the one in our souls, the tune our tongues danced to when I kissed you, our own rhythm, beat and melody, I wish that song could come to it's crescendo, loud and fast, our hearts beating together, you inside of me, your skin on mine, each of us coming to our climax and then the music crashing down to a decrescendo as we lay motionless, breathing increased and silence in the air, not because we don't have anything to say, but we don't need to say anything, we just need to lie, listening to each other breathe, knowing we're alive, and closer; physically; than ever.

I know that we can't be together. Not right now. I'm still too hurt from the first blow. I couldn't handle any more heartbreak. Maybe in a year or two we can make it work, but I can't live on that hope. I have to move on. I'll end up dating other people and so will you. Maybe we were meant to be. Maybe we still are, but maybe we aren't. I'll get over you in time.

In the meantime, I'll hold on to the gifts you gave me, the earrings, ring, and shirt, and I won't get rid of the memories, or the notes you wrote. I'll keep them, as a reminder of things that have come to pass, and in hope that we do get back together, just in case.

Yes, that's it, just in case.


End file.
